


Inside

by Tish



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Body Horror, Double Anal Penetration, Forced egg preg & egg laying, Mindbreak, Other, Oviposition, POV Victim, Painful Anal Sex, Rape to Break Character's Will/Spirit, Rescued by significant other, Tentacles noncon Illya, Throat Fucking, Triple Penetration, Unaroused Victim, traumatic insemination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-12 23:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: Illya falls into a trap with a very nasty prey at the centre.
Relationships: Illya Kuryakin/Original Tentacle Creature
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36
Collections: Naughty List 2019





	Inside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AMintJulep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMintJulep/gifts).

Illya fell, scrambling for purchase against the smooth metal floor that was no longer a floor, but a bizarre nightmare playground slide. The corridor receded behind him, a small patch of light disappearing into the darkness that now surrounded him.

There was no choice but to ride it out and see where he landed, in one piece, preferably. As he slipped down, Illya tried to manoeuvre his body for a crash landing, wishing he was more cat than his agile reputation said he was.

Looking down, Illya saw a very dim, green glow and braced himself for the impact that was surely coming. As he neared the light, he felt an increase in heat and humidity, a blast of dank air hitting him as he plunged into the green.

The impact was softer than expected, like vegetation, and he looked around the murky haze, feeling with his feet for solid ground, only finding a strange, sensual undergrowth of vines and branches. He tried to pull himself along, but the slimy branches proved to be tough going, and he was starting to sink a little.

A distorted metallic voice came from above, male, female, or robotic, it was impossible to tell. “Nice of you to drop in, Mr Kuryakin.”  
  
If only Napoleon were here, he'd appreciate the terrible pun, Illya thought. “My colleagues will be here soon, you should surrender,” he said calmly.

“There's nobody else within 50 miles, you know that. Now I suggest you save your breath on trying to breathe and not on trying to fake your way out,” the voice deepened with laughter.

Something slithered around Illya's neck, uncannily fast. Another vine-like thread joined it, but split off to probe along his face, oozing slime along his jaw. Illya jerked his head back, but the vine was relentless and forced itself inside Illya's mouth. He coughed and spluttered, and tried to push the vine from him. A third vine wrapped itself around his wrist, tightening. The vine in his mouth slid forward, then expanded, sending a wave of panic through Illya. He saw the vine around his wrist start to pulse and expand, revealing a set of small suckers along it. He felt the same thing happen to the one around his throat, the suckers latching onto him like perverted kisses.

Illya waited, his other hand was free, so he tentatively moved it. The reaction was as he feared, and another vine grabbed that wrist, tightening. He felt the tentacle squeeze his throat, and a pulse of expansion from the one inside. Illya lay very still, trying not to provoke it further, waiting for the next move.

There was a tearing sound and he felt his trousers loosen, slick tentacles sliding along his legs in place of the fabric. He flinched slightly as tiny vines slipped inside his socks and suckered themselves to his feet, pushing his shoes and socks off. He felt the suckers creep and pulsate along his feet, and he moaned slightly.

The tentacle in his mouth advanced further, and Illya felt tiny suckers move along his tongue. Saliva and something odd tasting filled his mouth and he tried to spit it out, or at least tilt his head to let it trickle out, but the tentacle expanded again, forcing him to swallow it down. The tentacle receded a little, enough for him to breathe again, and more tentacles started in on his body.

Slender vines crawled up his sleeves and through his shirt buttonholes. He felt the clammy stickiness as they settled against him, expanding and pulsing. He heard more tearing and the shirt disintegrated.

The tentacle in his mouth started to slide into his throat and back again as more vines slinked inside his briefs. Illya's eyes widened, _no, not this!_

The tentacles grabbed his cock and balls, the tiny suckers rippling as they moved. There was a small, muted thrill of pleasure initially, but the tiny suckers quickly began to feel like millions of pinpricks that sent Illya writhing. This set off the tentacle in his throat to push harder, so he forced himself to stay still, enduring the sensation.

More tentacles slid around him, the cloying humidity and strange plantlike smell making him feel light-headed. _It'll be over soon_, Illya thought, _Napoleon will find me_, he reassured himself.

It wasn't over, not by a long shot.

A tentacle moved down his spine and slid between his buttocks, pausing to spill something that oozed between his legs, then moving on to hover over his asshole. Whatever drowsiness Illya had felt was now driven away by the pin-prick suckers working on his butt, and he was highly aware of each tiny bite. The tentacle then advanced and rapidly plunged inside him. Illya's cry of pain was muffled by the choking tentacle and he sobbed back a tear.

The tentacle inside him started to pulsate, expanding a little as it moved and retreated. The suckers were still working away, sending tiny pain impulses through Illya's body.

Illya found a place in his mind and forced himself to stay there, imagining Napoleon was with him, holding him tenderly. He knew he could endure his torture, he had to.

Another tentacle worked its way inside, expanding suddenly, ripping Illya away from his fantasy of being in Napoleon's arms.

There was a shooting pain inside him, a sensation of hot thickness moving back down the tentacles. The mass of tentacles and vines moved as one, upending him, and Illya found himself on his back, body angled down, his head buried beneath the heat and stench of the tentacles. Vines at his ankles and knees spread his legs wide.

Everything stilled now, and Illya waited in his cocoon of pain. _What next?_

The tentacle inside him spasmed, sending a fresh wave of pain through him. He could feel the tentacle grow again, feeling as though he was tearing and splitting inside. Then a series of rapid pulses started up, and Illya screamed in agony, unable to move as the tentacles tightened their grip even more.

He felt something bulbous and round moving inside the larger tentacle inside his ass, and into his rectum. He felt it settle there, heavy and hot. Then another one slid inside him, quickly followed by a third.

His screams turned to a series of moans and wails, smothered inside his throat. He lost count of the things being inserted in him and tried to ride the pain, desperately hoping to black out.

He forced himself to go back to his image of Napoleon, focussing on his voice and his smile.

“I've got you, Illya,” Napoleon said, as though from afar.

Sliding into unconsciousness, Illya smiled.

***

“I've got you, Illya,” Napoleon said, his voice close as he held Illya.

Illya shivered and opened his eyes, vaguely aware of shouting and running in the distance. There was a stench in the air and green goo smearing everything in sight, including Napoleon.

“Napoleon!” Illya forced his mouth to work properly.

“You're safe, you're safe,” Napoleon reassured him, holding him close.”We'll get you to a medic. You'll be fine.”

“There's things...inside me,” Illya gasped, pain still shooting through him. He stared up at Napoleon, trying to gauge from his partner's reaction how bad a state he was in.

Napoleon was all tenderness, “Illya, the evac helicopter is coming. We'll be out of here soon. They'll fix you up, I promise. I hope the same could be said of my jacket.”

Illya twitched a smile, looking down at himself wrapped in Napoleon's suit jacket. “I made a mess of it,” he said weakly.

Napoleon gently pushed a clump of dried gunk away from Illya's face. “I've got plenty of suits, but I only have one of you. You're the important one, Illya.”

“All I wanted was to die, Napoleon,” Illya said, trying not to whimper. “If that thing wasn't in my throat, I would have told them anything, said anything to make it stop. But they didn't want to listen,” Illya shuddered, “they only wanted to watch, an experiment or something.”

Napoleon wanted to hold Illya closer, but he saw the pain etched on his face, he knew any movement was agony for him, so he just held him, letting Illya sink against him.

Napoleon looked around the chamber, trying to understand what the hell that tentacle creature was, and just was it had done to Illya. As Illya closed his eyes, Napoleon moved his jacket slightly. Illya's lower abdomen bulged out, and he could see some round shapes pressing against the skin. As Napoleon stared in horror, a tremor rippled along them.

He squeezed Illya's hand. “You're safe,” he said, trying to reassure not only his partner, but himself.

He looked toward the chamber door, willing the medics to arrive faster.

"Please be safe," Napoleon whispered.


End file.
